


a duty of care

by Ohcaptainswanmycaptainswan



Series: thirteen fanzine prompts [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohcaptainswanmycaptainswan/pseuds/Ohcaptainswanmycaptainswan
Summary: me? writing fic and not studying? yuuuupif you guys havent seen, theres a really amazing project called thirteenfanzine full of a whole bunch of really wonderful creators. and every week, theyll be posting a new prompt to drum up interaction. ill be writing a story for the fanzine and will try to do most of the prompts, but if youre not a part of it, please still participate! id love to see what yall come up with. for more details, go to their tumblr page.this is kind of not as heavily edited as normal, but please still enjoy. next chapter of looking out, cant you see forever will be up friday hopefully





	a duty of care

**Author's Note:**

> me? writing fic and not studying? yuuuup
> 
> if you guys havent seen, theres a really amazing project called thirteenfanzine full of a whole bunch of really wonderful creators. and every week, theyll be posting a new prompt to drum up interaction. ill be writing a story for the fanzine and will try to do most of the prompts, but if youre not a part of it, please still participate! id love to see what yall come up with. for more details, go to their tumblr page.
> 
> this is kind of not as heavily edited as normal, but please still enjoy. next chapter of looking out, cant you see forever will be up friday hopefully

 

Yaz picked up the bottle of vodka and poured another shot for herself. Setting it back on the top of the bar, she sniffed the vodka, wincing slightly at the sharpness that caught in her nose. The top of the liquid in her glass trembled slightly as Yaz knocked it with her hand, sloshing sloppily onto the wooden surface.

 

She cursed to herself. Hands shaking, Yaz lifted the glass to her mouth then tossed what remained in it back quickly. The cheap vodka burned her throat, leaving a harsh trail of fire through her chest that soothed her. Almost immediately, Yaz’s head spun harder, her stomach protesting the additional alcohol.

 

Yaz poured herself another shot.

 

“Take it easy there, yeah?” said the bartender, pausing at Yaz’s spot. She poured two glasses of beer and handed them off to two men, then frowned back at Yaz. “You don’t want to over do it.”

 

“I’m fine,” said Yaz thickly. Her stomach lurched, acid burning its way back up her esophagus. Steeling herself, she swallowed hard, willing her stomach not to betray her. “Completely fine.”

 

“Right,” said the bartender, lifting an eyebrow. “Well, yell if you need something. Like water. Or food.”

 

At the mention of food, Yaz’s stomach clenched hard, to remind her she hadn’t eaten since lunch. She tossed a quick glance outside, the darkness pressing in through the windows, then picked up her glass again. The vodka burned again as she forced it down, the warmth spreading to her head, setting her mind spinning harder.

 

Yaz poured herself another shot.

 

Lifting it shakily, Yaz closed her eyes, preparing for the lingering taste that made her want to vomit. But just as she touched the glass to her lips, a hand came from nowhere, pushing the glass away. Yaz’s hand jerked, spilling the vodka down her front.

 

“Oi!”

 

“I think you’ve had enough there,” said a familiar voice.

 

Angrily, Yaz opened her eyes to glare at the Doctor. Unconcerned with Yaz’s obvious ire, the Doctor settled onto the bar stool next to Yaz, her blond hair gleaming in the low light.

 

“Did Ryan send you?” Yaz asked. “Because I told him I wanted to be alone right now. He had no right to send you.”

 

“I sent myself,” said the Doctor.

 

Yaz snorted and grabbed the bottle of vodka. Pouring herself out another shot, she raised it mockingly towards the Doctor before tossing it back. Setting the glass down with a small clink, she snorted again.

 

“Unsend yourself, then,” Yaz said. “I want to be alone.”

 

The Doctor didn’t move, her eyes on the mostly empty handle of vodka.

 

“Did you just open that?”

 

“Go away.”

 

“Bad day at work?”

 

Yaz slammed back another shot. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

A scream echoed through her mind, the hot, thick feel of blood pulsing across the floor sluggishly…

 

Another shot went down, more smoothly this time. But not smooth enough.

 

Yaz turned the bottle over, staring disbelievingly at the two drops that clung sadly to the rim of the bottle. She could have sworn it was more full only a few minutes ago. Her hand spasmed and she dropped the bottle. It shattered in slow motion on the floor, miles away. Blinking thickly, Yaz swallowed back another rise of bile as she gawped dumbly at the glass pieces.

 

“For fuck’s sake,” she said. Raising a heavy hand, she tried to get the bartender’s attention. “Oi! I need another bottle.”

 

“No, you don’t,” said the Doctor, pushing her hand down. “You’ve had more than enough.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“No.” The Doctor surveyed her. Taking Yaz’s hand, she leaned closer. “Yaz. Please. What happened at work today?”

 

Yaz met the Doctor’s eyes, fully intending to tell the Doctor to fuck off again. Then, without her permission, tears burst from her eyes, wracking her body with huge, heaving sobs that tore at her lungs. Unable to hold her head up anymore, Yaz curled in on herself, the world spinning around her. Closing her eyes didn’t help, instead only amplifying her disorientation.

 

Comforting arms encircled her. The Doctor pressed her forehead to Yaz’s back, pulling her close. Her weight grounded Yaz. The world still spun madly around her, but the Doctor’s presence was the center of the spin, slowing it slightly.

 

The Doctor didn’t say anything, only held her tightly as Yaz sobbed onto the bar counter, the smell of vodka in her nose. Bile rose again in her throat as her stomach rebelled, and this time Yaz couldn’t force it back down. Choking, Yaz heaved and heaved, her stomach clenching painfully around nothing as the alcohol angrily burned its way back up to her mouth. Vomit splattered over the counter in a liquidy puddle.

 

When nothing more could come out, Yaz slumped down, her body aching. The Doctor shifted positions to pull Yaz’s head against her chest, stroking her hair away from her sweaty face. Yaz clung to the Doctor desperately as she wiped Yaz’s mouth with the corner of her coat sleeve.

 

“We got a call today,” mumbled Yaz into the Doctor’s chest. “An older woman was scared about the shouting coming from the flat above her.”

 

The Doctor tightened her arms around Yaz, rubbing her back, but didn’t say a word.

 

“My boss thought it could be time for me to do something more,” said Yaz. “So we went to go check it out.”

 

Another sob tore dryly at her chest, the taste of acid still burning in her mouth. Yaz dry swallowed.

 

“It was a couple. The woman had left something on the stove and burnt the pan beyond salvage. And the man kept shouting, and shouting, and shouting…” Yaz buried her face further into the Doctor, her words even more muffled. “She was so scared. I told her it would be alright, I would take care of her. I promised her. I promised her it would be alright. But then…”

 

Yaz’s voice died.

 

“But then?” prompted the Doctor softly.

 

Yaz shook her head, unable to say the words, to make them real.

 

“He had a gun,” she whispered. “He had a gun, and…”

 

The Doctor buried her face in Yaz’s hair as Yaz cried harder. The alcohol in her system stabbed knives through her head, tearing her open, leaving her raw.

 

“It’ll be okay, Yaz,” whispered the Doctor. “It wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I had a duty of care to her.” Yaz gasped raggedly for air. “I had a duty and I failed her, I failed, I-”

 

“Shhh,” said the Doctor. “Shhh.”

 

Yaz sniffed, swallowing a thick glob of mucus.

 

“It hurts so much.”

 

“I know,” the Doctor said into her hair. “I know.”

 


End file.
